Freeze Frame
by A. X. Zanier
Summary: Companion piece to Snapshots. Rating varies from PG13 to R. Check individual sections for rating.
1. June 1989

Author: A. X. Zanier

Title: Freeze Frame

Rating: Varies - PG-13 to R Watch individual chapters for specific rating.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or basic story ideas to "The Invisible Man." Any additional characters or ideas are mine.

Timeline: Companion piece to Snapshots

Comments: Some scenes from Michele's POV attacked and wouldn't let go, others fill in info that is needed from the story, but that cannot be learned from Darien's POV.

Music: _It Is You (I have Loved)_ by Dana Glover

Freeze Frame

Snippets and outtakes from the story Snapshots

June 1989

Rating: PG-13

"Come on, you have got to be kidding me." Christian shook his head in utter disbelief.

"Cross my heart," 'Chele stated solemnly, her fingers moving to make an X above her left breast. "The guys built the still from whatever bits of glass tubing they could find, spent six months brewing the stuff, and blew it all on one hell of a post-grad party. Best damn rot-gut I've ever tasted."

"Hey, you ain't 21?" Tristan observed. "Are you?"

She set her hands on her hips. "You tell me."

Tristan looked over at his brother Christian and they spoke as one. "Nope, ain't going there." 

Christian scratched his chin absently. "We can't even figure out how you can tell us apart."

"Yeah, care to fill us in?" Tristan added, just as curious as his twin.

'Chele shrugged not certain she could explain it, they just _felt_ different to her. "Maybe it's 'cause I'm a twin?"

"You have a twin?" Christian asked sounding very surprised. "Identical or fraternal?"

"Fraternal, male, in fact," 'Chele answered, trying not to smile at the sudden enthusiasm that rolled off both of them.

"You two do the whole private language thing?" Tristan took his turn with a question.

"Hell, yeah. Parents had to convince us we weren't the same person we were so close." The look of complete understanding on their faces was something she rarely saw. It quite literally took twins to understand the way twins thought.

"'Bout age five," Christian said, making it plain it was a statement and not a question and Michele nodded. "Us too. Weird adjustment ain't it?"

"You know it," she agreed. She was going to say something else when this sudden shock of pure terror hit her, nearly knocking her over with the force of it. There was only one person who could impinge upon her senses so powerfully. "Darien?" she mumbled, and she turned her head as if in slow motion to see Darien frozen in place by the picnic table, open gift in hand. It took her a moment to realize that bugs; spiders were crawling swiftly from the box and up his arms. No wonder he was screaming in her mind, he had an incredibly strong case of arachnophobia. 

When his presence, the fear vanished in her mind she _knew_ it wasn't good and, without a word to the twins she'd been talking to seconds before, she took off at a dead run for Darien. He was faster, his mind reacting to the trigger of his phobia, had done the only thing it could and run away from reality, a first class fugue state. His body reacted similarly and he spun about and ran full tilt for the far end of the beach.

"Shit," she swore loudly as she altered her course in the hopes of intercepting him. Her studies had included detailing what the mind was capable of, what it could do when pushed beyond what was considered _normal_ in any sense of the word. "Darien, damn it," she shouted hoping like hell it would have some impact on him, but she still registered nothing but that frightful need of his to get away.

He was quickly running out of beach, and given his mind was not exactly processing things the way it should, he was going to have to either climb the cliff face or head into the water. Both of which were likely to kill him in his current state of mind. Forcing herself to run through the thick sand faster, she got within a few feet of him, but no closer as he was much taller and running on pure adrenaline. Unless he suddenly snapped back to himself _nothing_ was going to stop him until his mind was convinced it was free of the danger it had perceived and reacted to.

Luck went her way and he stumbled, causing him to slow ever so slightly and she took her chance and launched herself at him. She connected with the back of his legs, knocking both of them to the ground, tumbling through the sand until they ran out of forward momentum. Darien tried to scramble away from her, very nearly kicking her in the face in the process as she lay there on her back seeing stars from the tumble they'd taken. Instinctively she reached out and grasped an ankle before he could do more than get to his hands and knees.

"Darien," she cried out as she rolled over, refusing to release him even as he whimpered like a wounded animal in fear. With his free leg he kicked out again and connected with her shoulder, which made her grunt in pain. "Darien, please, you're safe. I swear it."

But he still didn't hear her and when he lashed out again she reacted without thought, released the foot she was holding to grab the one swinging at her head and ducked while encouraging its momentum to increase. The end result was his foot flying over her head and forcing him onto his back. Once he was down she shifted to sit on him, to use her weight to try to hold him in place until he came back. She was only partially successful, landing on his thighs instead of his stomach, his hands coming up to shove her off.

Needing to break him out of the cycle, she did the only thing she could, something that she, over long years, had learned only she could do with such power. "Sorry, D," she whispered as she set one hand near the side of his head and _shocked_ him. The snap of the static discharge was painfully loud to her ears, but the results were more than she could have hoped for. He yelped in pain and a thousand confused and tangled emotions rushed back into his mind, causing 'Chele to shudder in relief.

Her attention no longer focused solely on Darien she realized the entire beach was in an uproar and that quite a large group of people was approaching them. Taking his wrist by her fingers she found his pulse running at three times the norm. "Get me some ice wrapped in a towel now!" she shouted at those nearest to them and watched as her order was followed instantly. "Dare, talk to me. You're safe. The spiders are gone." 

Someone, she didn't bother focusing enough to see who, handed her the jury-rigged icepack and she set it gently on the back of Darien's neck. He swung further into focus, though he still teetered on that edge. A high pitched keening still came from him as he vocally vented the terror that still lay heavy upon him.

"What happened?" 

'Chele recognized the voice as Janice's father who was one of the adults _not_ supervising the party. She didn't even turn as she snarled, "He went fugue thanks to _someone_ triggering his phobia." She damn near grinned in malevolent glee when just about every other person blamed John for the incident, because it now gave her a target to vent her surprisingly strong rage on. She was trying to remain calm while putting Darien back together, but was finding it difficult at best. She'd been damn shocked at how strong her connection to him was, at how he'd snuck in under her radar and curled up in the back of her mind. She was _always_ aware of him, even during those moments he would much rather she not be.

Francine's mom appeared as if by magic with her version of a first aid kit, being a nurse it was stocked with many atypical items including a blood pressure cuff and stethoscope. She immediately set about to get Darien's vitals, frowning the entire time.

"John..." 

"It was a joke. A joke," John protested when the police officer made it plain by his tone of voice he was not happy with the situation as it currently stood. He met 'Chele's eyes for an instant, before looking away. "So spiders give him the heebie-jeebies, how was I supposed to know he'd go totally freakazoid?"

'Chele's sight turned red for an instant and her hand squeezed convulsively about Darien's wrist before she regained control. "You idiot," she hissed her voice low and full of tightly controlled anger. "He's phobic, if you can possibly comprehend what that means."

"Obviously I'm nowhere near as smart as you. Why don't you explain it to me?"

Michele was sorely tempted to slap the sneer that took over his features into next week. "You could have killed him. You know, as in _scared to death_." In complete disgust at his total incomprehension she turned back to see Darien actually focusing on her. As relief washed across her, as she let the anger at John ease up so she could feel Darien again. His fright being replaced with concern for her.

"Is that true?" John asked, convincing her that he hadn't been malicious in his act, but had simply failed to gauge how severe Darien's phobia was.

"Yes," Mrs. Grady stated in agreement with Michele's assessment of the situation.

"Shit. Is...is he gonna be okay?" John asked.

"He should be," 'Chele answered, not bothering to even look at him. "Dare?"

"Yeah, Truth?" For one instant he was back and then his mind chose to query why he was not where he had been, which was the wrong thing to do as she felt him begin to slip under again. Wanting to hide from that which frightened him the most. "Crap."

"Don't you dare," she snapped, hoping to shock him back with words this time. "Stay with me." She squeezed his hand to give him a connection outside the monsters that hid in his mind.

He nodded, his eyes still more than a little wild. "I'm okay, I think." He turned away from 'Chele and spoke to Mrs. Grady, "Sorry about this."

"Darien, don't worry about it. I want you to sit and relax for a few more minutes," Mrs. Grady stated as she brought out a penlight, grasped his chin firmly and flashed it in his eyes. "Hmm, still not back to normal. Wait here." She patted him gently on the shoulder and then got to her feet and walked away.

Behind her John cleared his throat and Darien leaned his head about Michele to focus on his so-called friend.

"Look man, I'm sorry. It was just a joke, I didn't think you..." John mumbled, not entirely repentant.

"Forget it, man. We're cool," Darien responded quickly, surprising 'Chele with how easily he deferred his anger for later. However, he was apparently quite aware of how pissed she still was over the incident. "And no I don't want you to hurt him," he said softly to her.

She laughed, the sound bitter and harsh even to her ears. "If you say so."

"I do." When he lifted his hand to caress her cheek her heart rate doubled. His delicate touch doing wonderful things for her. If he only knew how long she'd wanted this, wanted him to touch her like this, to see her as something more than a girl who happened to be his friend. To see _her._ "Sorry if I scared you."

"Scared me? Darien..." she shook her head, not about to go into a bout of hysteria on how far beyond _scared_ she had been for those frighteningly long minutes when he'd been _gone_. To cover she fell back onto that professional bedside manner she'd learned over the years, her mother having been a major influence in that facet of her personality. "You want to head home? You are gonna feel like crap in about 20 minutes."

"And miss the bonfire? No way." Darien shifted his hand to play with that one curl that insisted on falling in her face and she batted his hand away. "I'll take it easy. Much rather sit here with you anyhow."

The heat that suddenly stained her cheeks was only partially embarrassment; the rest was good old hormones sitting up and taking notice, much to her dismay. "You did scare me, Dare," she whispered hoarsely, needing to let those troubling images go, to give voice to her feelings instead of bottling them in like she normally would around him. There were some lines that, until today, she just wouldn't cross.

"I'm fine. Just keep the spiders away and there'll be no more problems. Okay?" He reached out to her, his arms curving about her shoulders and pulled her close, her head resting on his chest. Releasing a ragged sigh, she just absorbed his presence; his scent and filed the sensations away in her mind to savor later.

Pushing gently on her shoulders, Michele sat back up, noting his sudden concern as Mrs. Grady returned. There was an undercurrent of discomfort with having the parents of the group realizing they were at the beginning of a new level in their relationship. It wasn't that he didn't want to be holding her, among other things, but that he was afraid if his family found out it would be discouraged.

"Hey Mrs. G. Sorry for the excitement."

"Darien, at least for a change it wasn't your fault." she crouched down next to them and handed Darien a bottle of electrolyte drink, which she encouraged him to sip at while she took his vitals again.

It was nearly 30 minutes later before both Michele and Mrs. Grady relented and allowed Darien to stagger back towards the picnic area where the fire had been lit and was slowly building into the massive blaze that had been planned.

"Stay," 'Chele admonished with a small smile. "I'll grab the blanket and some drinks, okay?"

Darien nodded, sinking down on the grassy verge to wait for her. "I am fine, y'know."

"I know," she agreed then hurried off towards the parking lot to retrieve the blanket from the trunk of her car. On the return trip she paused at the picnic table that still held the remainder of Darien's gifts awaiting his pleasure, grabbed a couple of sodas and, after a second's hesitation, her gift for him. She squatted down behind him and placed one of the cold cans on the back of his neck making him flinch away for an instant. "Where to, bub?"

"Bub? You been reading those X-Men comics again?" he laughed as he got to his feet and draped an arm about her shoulders.

"You know it. I have this thing for Logan," she said as he led the way to where he wanted to sit and watch the festivities. 'Chele spread out the blanket and settled upon it and was pleasantly surprised when he sat directly behind her, his knees coming up and arms wrapping about her neck in a show of quiet possessiveness.

"Ah 'Chele," he murmured into her hair, his fingers tracing lightly across her shoulders and pulling her gently back to lean against him.

She toyed with the box for a moment, then screwed up her courage and held it up for him to see. "Happy birthday, Darien."

Taking it from her he shook it and pressed it to his ear to listen to the contents. "Not spiders, I hope," he asked playfully.

"No," 'Chele stated emphatically. "Though John should thank you that he still has the potential to breed."

Darien sputtered in laughter for a couple minutes and Michele found herself joining in. She was very serious about how badly she wanted to hurt John, but found herself dragged along with Darien's humorous view of her comment. "My hero," he whispered once the laughter has died away. 

Michele closed her eyes while he tore the paper off and opened the box. She knew what lay within, she just hoped it wouldn't be too girly for him. 

"A ma vie de coer entier. French, obviously, which you know I didn't take." The confusion was slight, far more curiosity and she opened her eyes to see the ring dangling from the chain she'd purchased to go with it, figuring he wouldn't want to wear it on his finger.

"It's...it's like a claddagh ring. " Changing her mind instantly from what she had originally planned to use as an explanation. "You give it to your best friend, as a token." Her throat tightened, her voice suddenly faint. "You don't have to wear it."

The ring vanished from her sight and though tempted to turn about and see what he was doing, remained still as he moved. She felt the ring on her shoulder and knew he'd put it on, their proximity keeping the chain from hanging as it should. "Thank you, Michele," he said softly, his lips suddenly right next to her ear, his hand coming up to her chin and turning her head to find him looking so sweet in the fire light. 

He kissed her lightly, his lips brushing across hers and making her moan softly. When he pulled back he had a wicked gleam in his eye. "Much better, more fun when we don't have to worry about air."

'Chele did the only thing she could at the time. "Are you certain? Perhaps we should test that theorem a few more times to be sure."

His grin was priceless and his next kiss, one far more thorough, swept her away.


	2. October 1994

October 1994

Rating: R

The late afternoon sun turned the room a golden orange, a few scattershot rays managing to find their way through the windows that were poorly angled for allowing entry. Small flecks of dust were caught in the light and glimmered like infinitesimally small pieces of glitter hovering in the air. The drowsy murmur of the busy city streets below nothing but a quite hum in the background, the soft groans coming from the bed markedly louder in comparison. 

"Damn, kitten, could you be more tense?" Darien complained good-naturedly as he dug the ball of his thumb firmly into the arch of 'Chele's right foot. "I mean, shit, if sex ain't enough to get you to relax I don't know if you can be saved."

'Chele levered herself up onto her elbows and glared at the man lying on his side at the head of her bed and casually abusing her foot with just the right amount of pain to feel _good_. "Releasing sexual tension and easing stress are two completely different things, bub. 'Sides we spend so much time _building_ the tension prior to release that we're damn lucky we're ever sated," she snarked right back at him, deciding that she kind of liked his newest pet name for her.

"Ouch," Darien sniped. "Did you leave a mark? Am I mortally wounded?"

She planted her left foot on his chest and shoved, knocking him onto his back with a hastily stifled snicker. Damn, she had missed him. Eight months was far, far too long to not be near him, to see that shy smile or look into those sweet brown eyes of his, even with the shadow currently hanging over his heart. "You silly git," she said with a grin.

He grabbed at the wayward appendage as it tried to advance lower, stopping it before it could even attempt to move the section of sheet draped casually across his waist. "Git? You've been watching the BBC again, haven't you." 

'Chele squealed, her foot twitching as he ran a finger down the insole. "The BBC and Dr. Who are mandatory for us geeks, dontcha know." She managed to not jerk her leg away and was rewarded with his hands sliding up her calf to knead the muscles there. He'd been very tactile all afternoon, reaffirming not only his connection with her, but with life in general, trying to convince himself this was real, that he could indeed get beyond what had happened to him in prison ... eventually. Sighing, she lay back down and stretched her arms over her head, hands hanging off the end of the bed and back arching, vertebrae popping softly.

"How's the head?" Darien asked softly as she relaxed back into the welcoming softness of the mattress.

"Not bad," she answered, hoping he wasn't about to start up with the questions again, that would certainly kill the quiet mood they had achieved. There was only so much she could do about the pain these days, that last round of playing lab rat with herself had left her with chronic headaches that would often explode into full-blown misery at the drop of a hat. The migraine she'd earned today had been more than worth it to give Darien some small amount of comfort. Of course, it had black-lashed into a worry session by him, but at least that allowed his mind to concentrate on something beyond his fears, which in turn eased the responding reaction she had. "Why? You planning on bouncing bricks off it or something?" 

"Nah, you'd like that," he countered, rolling back onto his side and trailing his hand all the way up to her thigh. "Who was your newest conquest? Another blue-eyed blond, or did you go for the dark-haired roguish look this time?"

"Golden blonde and green-eyed, I'll have you know." 'Chele shifted her legs, parting them as he continued his slow exploration of her. 

"Lucky guy," Darien stated softly.

She could feel the envy rolling off him, his usual contradictory attitude about her and her relationships swirling through his mind making her want to shake her head in dismay. "And when did I ever say my relationship was with a male?"

Darien's hand froze and 'Chele wished she had a camera on hand to capture the look of total disconcertment on his face. Her statement had certainly knocked his train of thought right off track. She just lay there as boneless as possible while he tried to wrap his mind about her words. 

"You... you're bi?" he asked, sounding completely confused.

"No," 'Chele answered, curling onto her side to rub her face against his leg. 

Darien grumbled something she didn't catch, his hand moving away from her leg to run through his hair. "Well, I'm pretty damn sure you're not gay." He finally managed aloud. "Was it just convenience or something?"

"What? You afraid I'm gonna start playing for the other team? Competing with you for the femme fatales that abound 'round here?" She forced herself to swallow the snigger that bubbled up; she could _see_ the emotions flickering across his face with lightning speed as well his utter inability to put what he was feeling into words. "Darien, for me attraction isn't necessarily based on gender. I'm attracted to a _person_ not the built-in equipment. Have I been attracted to women before? Yes. Will I be again? Probably." She shifted to sit up, dragging the sheet with her as a cover. "This was the first time the attraction has been mutual is all."

Darien seemed to slowly absorb this information, adjusting his mindset to the new data and adding it to his mental image of her. 

"You okay, D?"

He sat up, drawing his legs in to sit cross-legged, the sheet pooling across his thighs and keeping that most masculine part of him hidden from view. "This is kinda left field for me, ya know."

"Hey, kinda surprised me too." 'Chele shrugged her shoulders, meeting his eyes for an instant before looking away. She knew this was a bit of a shock for him, he who thought knew her so very well, but she hadn't expected him to pull away from her. She resisted the temptation to touch him, to _read_ him beyond the obvious discomfort written in every line of his body.

"Damn," he finally muttered, shifting as if in an attempt to find a more comfortable position.

Glancing down, Michele couldn't help but notice that a particular portion of his anatomy was reacting far differently than the rest of him to the knowledge that she'd had a sexual relationship with a woman. Stretching out a leg she set her foot in his lap and ran her toes lightly up and down his erection. "Something come up, dear one?"

He grabbed her toes, holding them still and swallowed with some difficulty. "You could say that."

"Why is it guys get turned on by the thought of seeing two women together? Is it a double the boobs double the pleasure type of thing, or what?" Somehow she kept a straight face while she spoke.

Darien groaned audibly and pressed her foot against his hard-on and thrust slowly. "If I knew I'd tell ya." 

'Chele laughed, relieved he wasn't upset or disgusted with her. "So you're okay with it?"

"Now that my initial surprise is over, yeah." He released her foot, but didn't move it away and she returned to her gentle play with her toes, the sheet already becoming noticeably damp. "So spill. Name, where you met, everything."

'Chele grinned evilly. "Everything?" As she watched Darien's eyes darkened and he nodded tightly. "You are such a male sometimes," she commented with a smile.

"I am always male," he countered, relaxing back into the pillows, patiently waiting for her to begin.

"Her name is Tamara, and you wouldn't hesitate to hit on her yourself. 5' 6", slender, skin the color of cafe au lait. Gorgeous green eyes and that golden hair I mentioned before. Smart as a whip, too." 'Chele's voice softened as she remembered the woman. "We got stuck working together for about five months. First time I saw her..." She paused shaking her head. "We just clicked, but it took us two weeks to figure out it was mutual. Me going home at night horny as hell and trying to figure out how I was supposed to work with her when all I wanted to do was kiss her." 

"Had it bad did you?" Darien asked softly.

"Oh yeah. Bad as I did that first summer with you." 'Chele noted his pleased response to that statement. "Course I never got over you."

"Once you've had the best..." Darien bragged with a broad grin, and, in truth, she couldn't argue with him. She'd fall back into his arms for as long as he would let her, but she also couldn't let him get away with the comment unscathed.

"Best male, maybe," she quipped.

"'Chele," he laughed, his eyes twinkling in merriment. "She make you happy?"

"Very, but we both knew she was only a temp on the project. So we had fun and enjoyed it while it lasted. I see her around on occasion, she lives here in town." 'Chele smiled slyly. "I could give her a call. Invite her over, if you'd like."

The wave of conflicted emotions that roiled off him was a shock. Part of him outrageously excited at the prospect of having not one, but two willing women to play with, or just watch, warring with a deep-seated possessiveness for her. The fear that he would end up relegated to secondary in her affections if her most recent lover joined them. Underlying all of that was this pitiful sadness, this need to be held and comforted by her and her alone. He wavered and waffled for several long minutes, the emotions chasing each other across his face.

"Michele, if... if you'd rather be with ... her I'll understand," he finally said, his voice only cracking the slightest amount on the words.

'Chele held her tongue for a long moment to prevent herself from blurting out words that she would instantly regret and that she _knew_ he didn't want to hear. "No, Darien, I would _not_ rather be with her." She crawled forward, leaving the sheet behind and sat beside him. "Just offering the opportunity for some fun, is all." 

He must have caught the subtle undertone in her voice. "You're just playing with me," he grouched. "Bets this _Tamara_ is actually a _Tom_." 

Sidling away from him 'Chele opened the drawer in the nightstand and fished around for a moment before finding the picture. She looked at it wistfully for a second then handed it to Darien. "See for yourself."

He took the picture from her with some reluctance. "Wow, she is gorgeous. African-American and Asian, maybe?"

"Jamaican and Asian predominantly. Her dad was Jamaican, mom half-Caucasian half-Korean, thus the blonde hair. The green eyes she inherited from her dad." The picture didn't even come close to doing the woman justice in the looks department, being one of those semi-cheesy tourist trap photos they'd been talked into on a dinner cruise they'd taken one long weekend. The rest of the time they had spent in the very bed she and Darien were lying in now, only rarely coming up for air from the pleasurable haze of sensuality that had fallen over them like a soft blanket. "Got the best genes from both sides, in my opinion."

Darien seemed to study the picture with an intensity far beyond what it deserved. "You two look.... right together. Why not continue the relationship?" he asked quietly.

'Chele had to think carefully before answering. "We had our time together, that's what's important. We're both hetero overall, happenstance put us together and gave us the chance to know each other." She knew the explanation wouldn't wash with him, even if it was the truth. She'd had many lovers over the years, some had even been loves to one degree or another, but only one had captured her heart fully and he was the one person she didn't dare to stake her claim on... for his sake.

"But," He waved at the photo. "You're happy here, even I can see that. Why toss it away?"

"Toss it away? Never. We're still friends and have lunch a couple times a month. She's currently dating one drool worthy hunk of male flesh named Justin and is deliriously happy with him." When he failed to respond, 'Chele dug into the drawer again and came up with several dozen more pictures, but these were not of her and Tamara. One was a series of black in white shots taken in one of those cheap photo booths and she pointed to it. "Does that look like someone who is unhappy?"

Darien shook his head. "I remember that day, we were at Belmont Park, what, two years ago?"

"Yes," she responded as he flipped through the other pictures. Most of them of her and Darien and in all of them she was obviously happy. "Looks like Tamara is not the only one who makes me happy."

"Two years ago, maybe," Darien muttered as he continued to flip through the pictures, pausing here and there as a particular one caught his eye and memory. He finally held up one that had only her in the shot because he had been the one wielding the camera at the time. He'd caught her in a moment of quiet contemplation and had called out her name, snapping the pic as she turned to face him. She'd nicknamed the shot her Mona Lisa since she had just this hint of a smile upon her lips. "What were you thinking about in this one?"

"You," she answered, taking the picture from him. "That was the first time you asked me to marry you." She remembered the day vividly; it was all of six months after she'd finally gotten back on the proverbial horse, at least where sex was concerned, and she and Darien had been together pretty much exclusively the entire time. He still had a year of school left and she was busy with her new job, but they had stolen a weekend off from their lives. If she had suspected he was going to pop the question she would have dissuaded him well ahead of time, but she was pretty sure he hadn't planned it and that he had just blurted it out spontaneously.

"First time you told me _no_ as well. Guess you weren't so happy that time." He shoved all the pictures together and set them on the nightstand on his side of the bed, his body radiating his mood shift.

"You'd be wrong then, I was very happy and honored you cared enough about me to ask." Michele sighed; wishing the mood hadn't taken this downturn. The last thing Darien needed right now was a slow slide into depression and unhappiness, not when he needed his ego, his sense of self bolstered and built back up. "Darien, you are one of the most important people in my life. You, just by being you, make my life a wonderful adventure and I thank my parents every day for encouraging me to call you that first time." She took one of his hands in to her own. "I wish I could make you as happy as you deserve, as you make me, but it's plain I can't, that you need more than I am able to provide."

'"Chele, that's not true," Darien interrupted, using his free hand to brush her hair back from her face. 

"Sure it is," she countered without rancor. "I'm your fall back girl. I'm always there for you and you know it. I'm the only girl who hasn't walked away from you, who hasn't, to your way of thinking, left you. Going all the way back to your mom." 'Chele looked him in the eye, wishing the need for these truths to be dragged out into the open hadn't happened. He stared at her in shock, the confusion and pain easily visible in his eyes. 

"This your way of saying you're gonna leave too?" The hurt in his voice was so deep and so profound that 'Chele ached for him. "Is that what all this is about?" He waved his hand about to encompass the apartment and all they had done within its environs. "One last romp before moving on and out of my life."

"No," she stated emphatically. "Never. And you _know_ that. Ah, D, doesn't the fact that I'm here mean anything?"

"Of course it does," he responded hoarsely. 

"Then stop futzing about trivialities." 'Chele punched him lightly on the shoulder, as a young girl on a playground would to a boy she liked.

Darien eyed her, but caught that she was trying to lighten the mood and returned the punch as was appropriate. "This is where we're supposed to be right now," he stated softly. "That's what you always say, anyway."

She snickered, "That's my lot in life. Always being right is an awesome responsibility, ya know." And on those words the tension broke and Darien laughed full-throated and completely real, and, for the first time since she'd picked him up in the dusty parking lot of that bleak prison, he relaxed. He laughed until tears were rolling down his cheeks, 'Chele smiling at him, glad to see him _happy_ ...finally. "That's my Dare," she whispered.


	3. August 2000

A/N: This section falls after Snapshots Chapter 19 and before Chapter 20. A big thanks to Krys for, not only doing the Beta thang, but bugging me to finish this story. -- AXZ

***

August 2000

PG-13

Michele waited impatiently for the man she _needed_ to speak with to come on the line. This red tape laden run-around was just one more item to add to the long list of reasons why she wanted no part of working for the government. Now if the DOD would just get the fricking hint. The trail that led to this point had been well and truly muddied and she had been forced to call upon her brother Michael for assistance, which he'd willingly given. Her twin knew how she felt about Darien and the lengths she go to for him. Mike also trusted her judgement implicitly, so when she'd told him that Darien was innocent and she had proof... Well, it had taken Mikey less than 12 hours to get her the basic information she needed and he'd offered more if she determined she was in need of it.

That basic information included two names and a phone number. He also provided her with a long string of numbers that would 'scare the bejeesus out of them,' but also legitimize her and keep her from being hung up on out of hand. 'Chele had already rattled off the number and knew the gentleman who had answered the phone with the claim that they were the Department of Fish and Game was probably on another line confirming the veracity of her clearance.

"_This is him_," the gruff male voice barked in her ear, just as she had been warned he would.

Michele got right to the point. "I need to speak to Dr. Kevin Fawkes on a matter of some urgency." Urgency was putting it mildly, it had taken her longer than she'd hoped to get the information that could clear Darien, only to find out the best of it was practically useless because of the methods used to retrieve it. She had been forced to resort to some less than legal avenues to obtain the data due to the serious time constraints.

The slight hiss of indrawn breath was as expected as the well practiced words that followed. "_There is no Dr. Fawkes associated with this office of Fish and Game_," he stated flatly.

'Chele was unable to repress the sly grin that burst across her features; the man she spoke to had no idea that she actually had him by the short hairs, though he was about to find out. "But there is for the Agency," she said in a voice just as lacking in emotion, not wanting the man she assumed was 'the Official' to feel threatened. "Look, your lackey wouldn't have handed you the phone if I didn't have the right clearance code, so can we not do this song and dance and cut to the chase?" 

"_I don't know who you think you are_," the Official blustered and 'Chele hurried to cut him off and prove she meant business.

"I'm the person who could have pulled enough strings to contact Kev directly, but chose to go through so-called proper channels in order to keep his project secure." 'Chele paused to allow him time to ponder the ramifications of that. From what she'd been told, the man was anything but a fool, and he should have caught her intentional use of Kevin's nickname.

"_Who are you_?" Though loosely couched as a question, she knew it was an order.

Softening her tone she replied, "Dr. Michele MacTierney and I must speak to Kevin about some important family matters."

There was silence for several minutes, during which she was certain he was running a background check and verifying her identity. 

"_I'm afraid Dr. Fawkes is working on a highly classified project and_..."

Michele cut him off again, not caring how irritated he might get. "I know where Kev is. I even have a damn good idea what he's working on, but I _will_ speak to him, one way or another."

Based on the grinding of teeth that could clearly be heard across the phone line, the Official was beyond irritated; he was downright pissed. She sat there in silence, noting absently that she needed to reapply the polish to her left hand while she waited for the muttered imprecations to run their course. This was followed by threats to have her arrested for treason along with a half-dozen other national security violations, he even tossed in a few biologically creative suggestions that she made a mental note of as they were very colorful. Eventually, however, he ran down and gave her a chance to speak.

"So, did you buy enough time to validate my relationship to Kevin?"

The Official chuckled dryly. "_And then some. I've met your brother; best damn agent I've seen in years_."

"So I've been told on numerous occasions by that scion of wonder himself," 'Chele agreed. Now that the Official was satisfied with who she was they might actually be able to get this settled quickly. "Sir..."

"_I'm afraid there is no way to arrange a face to face meeting at this time_," the Official sounded far more genial and even a touch sympathetic and it made her wonder what was going on now, but she didn't have the time to feed her curiosity at the moment.

"No need, the data is on my secure web server. He can examine it for himself and then contact me via e-mail." Michele explained, though she knew it unlikely he'd believe her security measures could ever be tight enough. So she was shocked when he immediately said,

"_Agreed_."

She recovered quickly. "Thank you, sir. I must emphasize the need for urgency on this matter."

"_Understood_," the Official stated. "_Kevin has spoken very highly of you, Doctor_."

Before 'Chele could respond to that surprise tidbit of information the voice of the man who she had first spoken to echoed across the line, suggesting the speaker phone had just been turned on.

"_The message will be relayed within the hour, once the security of the site has been ascertained_."

"Of course," "Chele responded. She had expected that. "Kevin will need to enter a password to access the data."

"_Will he know the password_?" the lackey asked.

Michele thought about it and realized Kevin might very well have forgotten that bit of data as unnecessary. "Tell him ... tell him Lab 3, Killington," 'Chele said, since the password was the one they'd used on the sole project they'd worked together on at Cal-Tech. Then she rattled off the specific web addy he'd need to access the information.

The Official's voice was suddenly back and sounding oddly disconcerted to her ears. "_Cassandra Project_?"

"Yes, case sensitive with an underscore between the words. It's a bit of an inside joke," she explained, not about to go into detail about why the private section of her website went by that name.

"_I see_," the Official muttered not sounding the least bit convinced. "_Does Kevin know how to contact you if necessary_?"

"Yes, he has my secure number." Michele wondered where he was going with this line of questioning, but there was no chance she was going to give the game away. Oh she knew with a little research on his end either the Official or his office pet could figure out what the family issue was, if they were even vaguely interested. Though the fact he called Kevin by his first name suggested that the Official was more than just Kev's boss.

"_Doctor, I hope the family problems are cleared up quickly_," the Official said in obvious dismissal followed by the sound of the line being disconnected.

'Chele snapped her cell phone shut and muttered, "So do I."

***

'Chele shut the door to her apartment and sank down to the floor, not having the energy to do more than lift one shaky hand to her forehead. She'd been there for Darien even if he'd not been aware of it. He had insisted that she _not_ show up for his sentencing, not out of anger, but out of concern for her. He didn't want her to be associated with him; worried it could adversely affect her career if it became known she was a friend of a convicted murderer. She hadn't even argued too strenuously out of a deep sense of failure. Her one hope, her last chance to possibly avert this hadn't come through and she was at a total loss for what to do now.

At least part of her plan had worked, he hadn't gotten the death penalty, and he wouldn't be heading up to San Quentin to await a last meal and the offer of a last confession by some padre who didn't give a damn. Darien had turned his back on the church long ago and she doubted there was any way to drag him back, not even with his own personal visitation of death staring him in the eye. No, now he was off to Bakersfield to live in the general population and she knew it would break him. That they would beat him down, rape him, and that beautiful soul, that amazing mind of his would be lost to her forever.

When the gavel had come down and the cheers had erupted by the legions of senior citizens who had been watching, she'd wanted to scream at them, tell them how wrong they were, but she knew her words would fall upon deaf ears. Then Darien had turned about to the one supposedly friendly face in the entire room only to watch Casey get up and leave without even the slightest glance in his direction. Darien shouting her name over and over all the while, the tumult that filled the room providing Casey a convenient excuse to not hear him.

Once Darien had been all but dragged away, 'Chele had approached Harry, not caring who saw them together. She had no reason to hide and had only stayed in the background because Darien had _asked_ her. Harry was rightfully dismayed, but also relieved that 'Chele's ploy had allowed them to skirt the death penalty. After all, why bother executing someone on a third strike when he'd never get out of prison anyway?

"Damn it, Kevin," she snarled into the swiftly darkening room and then just about jumped out of her skin when her cell phone went off. She dragged it out of her pocket and flipped it open to stare at the caller ID that was informing her it was an unknown number. With a sigh she pressed the accept button and said, "Mac."

"_Michele? Is that you_?" came the static laden query.

"Kevin? Wonderful timing. They gave him life with no parole," 'Chele had no idea how she kept from screaming at him, her voice oddly cold and stiff even to her own ears.

"_I heard_. _And it's being taken care of_." Kevin sounded just as stiff and formal as she did_. "I don't know what you were thinking 'Chele_..."

"I was thinking you could use some of those government contacts I _know_ you have and get the proof legitimized. Then I could've given it to Harry and maybe gotten a mistrial. Now, we have to wait for appeal." 'Chele's pushed herself to her feet, her temper flaring. "God damn it, Kevin, he's your brother. For once get your head out of your ass and do something right."

"_You mean like you do? Sit back and watch him waste his life as a two-bit thief_?" Kevin snapped, that sneer she'd learned to hate over the years making its scheduled appearance.

'Chele's tone dropped to a low growl, "It's _his_ life. Maybe you should take the time to see what he's done with it instead of making assumptions."

Instead of the expected sharp comeback, Kevin sighed heavily. "_Maybe you're right. This... Darien couldn't have done this. It's not in him to hurt someone like that_."

'Chele chuckled ruefully and headed for her kitchen to scrounge a bottle of water from the barren fridge. "Just more proof you don't know him. In the right situation, for the right person there is _nothing_ he wouldn't do." She twisted off the top and drank down a quarter of the bottle while Kevin stewed over her comments. "Look, did you call just to make my shit day even worse or what?"

"_Damn it, 'Chele could you give me even half a chance? Shit, you'd go to the ends of the earth for Darien and yet barely give me the time of day_," Kevin argued in total exasperation.

Michele froze in place for several seconds. "Kevin, sometimes you are a complete idiot. I'd go to the same damn lengths for you. You're my friend, Kev, that has never changed." She leaned back against the counter and sighed softly. 

"_Yet you sleep with Darien_," Kevin hissed, which caused Michele to suck in a breath.

"Kevin," she warned. He had no right, none at all to question her choices. To suddenly bring back all that anger and jealousy of that first summer she and Darien had been together as a couple. Jealousy that had carried over to Cal-Tech where she and Kevin saw each other fairly often given their overlapping studies. It had taken a good six months before Kevin loosened up and realized that the relationship had ended when she'd left Cold Springs.

"_Sorry, you're right, of course, who you sleep with is none of my business_." She listened as he shifted the phone. _"Look, can you get me copies of the files. I need them to wave under noses_."

"Copies I can do," 'Chele responded, more than willing to drop the subject of her personal relationship with Darien. "How do I get them to you?"

"_Courier. He'll pick them up and deliver them to my boss_." Kevin chuckled then. "_He didn't believe me when I said you were ballsy as hell. You changed his mind very quickly_."

"Glad I could help," she commented her voice full of irony. "What are you gonna do, Kev?"

"_What I need to, all right_?" His tone was oddly sad. "_You'll just have to trust me on this_."

"Kevin, I have always trusted you," she responded quietly. "Let me know if I can do anything to help." While she didn't know what he had planned, she fully realized that if he needed more details on where the information had come from, and that she was the only legitimate source.

"_'Chele, I'll contact you and let you know if I pulled this off, but beyond that_..."

"We'll wait and see. Got it." Somehow she'd known there'd be a catch with Kev, but it didn't matter so long as Darien never had to serve any real time in prison. "I'll need an hour to make copies. Where do you want me to meet this courier?"


End file.
